Silly Muggle Pseudoscience
by Ally147
Summary: "All very well and crazy, Professor," Theo said in a slow drawl, "but what do Granger's odd academic proclivities have to do with me?" Hermione/Theo, Hogwarts-era AU, EWE. Written for the 2014 Interhouse Fest on LJ.


Hello again! This was my submission for the 2014 Interhouse Fest on Live Journal. I had so much fun writing Theo Nott in a leading capacity, so I hope you'll enjoy it, too.

Rated purely for language! I don't know why, but at the fest this story was catergorised as NC-17, which it definitely is not!

Thank you to my beta, Kanames Harisen. Excellent work as always :)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. This piece of fiction was written entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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><p><strong>October 3, 1997<strong>

Theodore Nott could hardly believe what McGonagall was telling him. Things like this just weren't done, not by sane, rational, logical people anyway. What sort of craziness would have to possess a student to actually choose – _of their own bloody free will, too, thank you very much_ – to take every NEWT subject on the Hogwarts curriculum? The name of said _utter fruitcake of a student_ really shouldn't have come as a surprise; Hermione Granger. Of _fucking_ course it would be her.

"All very well and crazy, Professor," Theo said in a slow drawl, "but what do Granger's odd academic proclivities have to do with me?"

"She requires a tutor in Divination," McGonagall told him, her eyes narrowing at him over the rims of her glasses. "And I believe you would be the perfect person to assist her."

"What?" Theo yelped in an uncharacteristically girlish register. "Professor, really, with all due respect, why me? Why can't Granger take her sodding classes with Trelawney? Wouldn't an actual Professor would make a far better NEWT tutor than me?"

It was the closest he had ever come to seeing his Transfiguration professor truly smile; the corner of her lips quirked upward in the tiniest of amused smirks, disappearing just as quickly. "After Miss Granger's… outburst, shall we say, in the Divination classroom in your third year, Professor Trelawney has refused to take her on again. Apparently she had never felt so insulted." The smile appeared again, this time full of pride. "Who else better to tutor Miss Granger than yourself, Mr. Nott? The highest ranking Divination student in your year, and by quite the margin, too?"

Theo shifted awkwardly – the old bat was teasing him, he was sure of it – and instead chose to glance around the gaudy red office. His gaze fell on a small, golden statue of a lion with a full mane and rubies for eyes – a disgustingly garish piece, in his opinion, and horribly cliché, too. Snape sure as hell didn't have a silver snake figurine with emeralds for eyes slithering about in his office.

The lion paced up and down the length of McGonagall's desk, occasionally letting out a loud roar that made Theo wonder just how the bloody hell McGonagall could concentrate with such racket going on the background before sitting back on its haunches. It would then fix him with a heated glare, as though asking just how a Slytherin had the audacity to be sitting in front of him, as though it was the reincarnation of Godric Gryffindor himself.

"Any questions, Mr. Nott?" McGonagall asked, cutting right through his fog.

"Just one," Theo answered resignedly. Granger's 'outburst' in third year had been well documented. He doubted he'd be able to get anywhere with her, no matter how much McGonagall seemed to think otherwise. "When?"

McGonagall leaned back in her seat and began to fiddle with a stack of parchments that were stacked precariously on the edge of her desk. "That is entirely at your discretion, Mr. Nott. However, as soon, and as quickly as possible would be preferable."

_So Miss Granger can focus on more important things _was unspoken, but heavily implied.

Theo bit back the sneer that was battling the genial smile on his face for dominance and nodded. "I'll owl her a time."

"Then I shall bid you good luck – no doubt, Miss Granger will make a difficult student for you. I trust you can show yourself out?"

With a slow nod, Theo rose and stepped out of the tacky office. He immediately leaned up against the wall beside the door and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, then let out deep breath and a low groan.

He had absolutely no idea how he was going to handle such close, constant proximity to the girl he'd fancied since he was fourteen.

**XXX**

**October 6, 1997**

In a small, windowless room at the back of the Hogwarts library (installed at Trelawney's insistence some fifteen years ago, he had learned), Theo sat at a wide, oak desk covered in a sheet of purple satin and prepared himself for his first little slice of heaven and hell. He placed tiny, lavender scented tea-light candles into coloured glass holders. Once lit, the room was overcome with scent and awash with shades of blues, greens, purples and reds that bounced and reflected off the walls.

Perhaps the room was a little warm, Theo thought idly to himself as he stood and tugged at the collar of his robe and let it pool at his feet, and a little claustrophobic, too. Yes. That must be it. Funny, though; he'd never felt claustrophobic a day in his life. Living the better part of his life in a sodding underground dungeon had desensitised him to dark, dank, enclosed spaces. He ran his sweaty palms over his trousers for what felt like the thousandth time and curled his hands into fists so tight his nails left little crescent-shaped cuts in his skin.

The heavy door swung open, casting a shard of yellow light from the nearby sconces through the crack. A shadow appeared, throwing a perfect silhouette against the far wall; petite, female, with wildly curly hair. Theo turned his head and found Hermione Granger standing in the doorway, a heavy bag slung over one shoulder and a heavy scowl firmly plastered across her pretty face. The light behind her illuminated her hair like a halo, and Theo immediately thought she looked rather like a wrathful angel, sent make him pay dearly for transgressions he hadn't even committed yet.

Like any fourteen year old boy, it had been her looks that drew him in first, and had been the sole focus of many nights spent in hand for many years to come. In those pretty blue robes that highlighted her gentle curves and with that wide, happy smile on her face as she danced with Krum, he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her at the Yule Ball, and his fixation on her had only grown from there.

Her remarkable intelligence had drawn him in next, though there had never been any doubt in his mind that she had earned every bit of her 'brightest witch' moniker regardless of her well-known abhorrence for Divination. From there, it was her compassion for the downtrodden and less fortunate, her bravery, her kindness, her fortitude, her ambition and every little nuanced part of her. He looked at Hermione Granger and saw a woman who knew exactly what she wanted, who was beautiful and confident, who was caring and generous, someone who was completely and utterly perfectly imperfect.

And now, he grinned as he saw her petulant and moody, standing in his doorway with a sulky little scowl plastered over her pretty features, but it did little to stifle his longing.

"I don't see how this is necessary," Hermione announced with a great huff in lieu of a proper greeting as she sauntered on through and dropped her book bag to the stone floor with a loud, echoing thud.

"What isn't?" Theo mumbled as he looked down and lit a final wick, shaking the small flame from the Muggle match he'd been using.

"This!" she exclaimed. "This tutoring nonsense! Honestly, I can't believe Professor McGonagall put you up to this! Believe me, Nott; I'll be perfectly competent at Divination in no time without you."

"Not soon enough for McGonagall's liking, apparently," Theo replied without looking up. He carefully straightened the purple, satin tablecloth, making sure the excess fabric on either side was even. "Look, Granger –"

"Hermione," she cut in, fixing him with a pointed look. "I insist."

"Fine. Hermione," he went on, "I don't know where your sudden, inexplicable, downright foolish desire to take every sodding course on the Hogwarts curriculum has come from, but I was asked to tutor you since Trelawney won't touch you, and that's what I'm going to do. So" – he held out a hand, inviting her to sit – "what do you know about Divination?"

She sighed and pulled out her chair, sitting down and folding her hands neatly in her lap. "Little more than rudimentary theory in the topics which were covered in third year. I never read the texts beyond the sections on crystal balls."

"Third year?" Theo repeated, cringing. "Fuck me, that's a lot to cover."

"Language," she chastised, her eyes narrowed. He quirked a brow at her, and she continued. "And I'm a fast learner."

"Fast enough to cover four years' worth of material in a little over a month?" he retorted, frustrated. He had been counting on that notorious thirst for knowledge of hers, hoping she wouldn't have the constitution to leave a school text, regardless of its credibility in her eyes, unread.

"Like I said, I'm a fast learner. Besides, how hard can it be?"

"Divination requires every part of you, Hermione – your mind, your heart and your soul. It's not exactly a subject you can simply glide through."

Her scowl softened into something more inquisitive. "How are you the best in our year at Divination?"

Theo shrugged. "There's an art to it that I find fascinating."

"It's a con," she refuted.

"And yet here you are. Voluntarily." Theo leaned under the desk and, with a slight grimace, hauled from the floor a large, heavy crystal ball. It was an ornate, smoke-filled sphere with a slight mauve tinge, set in a base made of jagged amethyst crystals, and he had to smirk when Hermione turned her appraising gaze onto it and smiled. "Come on, then, Hermione. Put your wand away; you won't need it here. Let's start with the basics."

**XXX**

**October 12, 1997**

"Astrology?" Hermione screeched.

"Yes, Hermione," Theo replied, weary, as he rubbed at his throbbing left temple, trying desperately to stave off the headache that was quickly mounting at her shrill, piercing tone. Arguing the merits of Divination versus its shortcomings had been amusing at first, seeing Hermione spark with anger had been a true sight to behold, but Theo wasn't so sure anymore. "Astrology."

"But…" She let out an odd hybrid of a groan and a shriek and stood to pace the length of the desk. "There is no merit whatsoever to Astrology! Even Muggles know this!"

"It is a concept thousands of years old, and one that was practiced by some of the most celebrated Muggle Astronomers. I agree, its reputation has declined over the past few centuries, but –"

"It is a pseudoscience with no true merit!" she snapped.

"– but that doesn't mean it never held any merit before!" Theo went on, raising his voice over hers. "Centaurs have been using Astrology for centuries, Hermione, probably even longer, and their predictions are accurate more often than they're not."

"We aren't bloody Centaurs, and we both know their _most reputable_ methods aren't what you are about to teach me," she hissed.

Theo ground the heels of his hands into his eyes and let out a low, frustrated groan. "Really, Hermione?"

"I just think it's nonsense!" she cried. "I've never believed in it, not even when I was little and my dad would read me my horoscope from the morning paper."

"_Just because it's bullshit in the Muggle world, it doesn't mean it's like that here_!"

Her eyes narrowed and took on a dangerous glint. Theo instinctively moved back.

"I dearly hope," she began in a low hiss, "you aren't insinuating that, just because I'm Muggle-born, I don't _want_ to understand the subject matter."

"Of course not," Theo exclaimed, exasperated, as he let out a defeated sigh. "But you must have noticed by now, things work differently here – magic makes things work differently here! Astrology and other – what did you call it? – silly Muggle pseudoscience included."

Hermione glared at him, her eyes flashing and her nostrils flaring. He could feel the crackle of magic in the air, and for a brief moment, the candles seemed to burn brighter, and the satin tablecloth billowed gently in a breeze that had no conceivable origin.

Theo sighed and held out his hands in surrender. "Look, you like Arithmancy, don't you? Arithmancy is just another form of Divination."

"Arithmancy is based on rigorous mathematical process," she defended. "Tea leaves, crystal balls and charting the bloody stars for a future is nothing more than conjecture."

"It is glorified numerology, Hermione, a branch of _Divination_!" He let out a huff of air and opened his book again. "Fine. We'll leave Astrology for another day since you're going to kick up such a bloody fuss about it. For now…" He flicked thorough his copy of the syllabus. "Let's have a look at Ovomancy."

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead in exasperation. Another strange gust of wind blew in, snuffing several of the candles. "Not the egg yolk one."

**XXX**

**October 18, 1997**

"But it's a joke!" Hermione yelled. "Beyond a joke, even. It's… it's… ugh!"

Theo quirked a brow and leaned back in his seat, stretching out his legs and crossing one ankle over the other. She really was adorable when she was floundering. "More so than any of the other things we've covered? More so than Astrology?" He let out a low whistle. "I wasn't sure anything would top that on your personal bullshit meter."

"This is simply ludicrous," she seethed. She stood, slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way to the door. "I'll have no part of it."

"I don't have to be here at all, Hermione. I can walk away from this any time I like," Theo casually said as he stood from his seat. She paused with her hand poised on the doorknob. "I agreed to tutor you out of the goodness of my heart, so please; if you plan on dropping this, then hurry up and do so. I have other things I could be getting on with. If not, sit your gorgeous bum down and get on with it!"

He could have kicked himself for the gorgeous bum comment, but Theo wasn't sure she had even heard it. Instead, she turned back and braced her hands on the desk, mirroring his position. Theo met her vicious glare with one of his own, his dark-blue gaze holding her chocolate-brown until she let out a great sigh and dropped her stare to the table, one finger idly tracing a knot in the wood.

She slumped in her seat and pulled from her bag a red, leather-hide notebook. "Fine."

"Good girl. Now, hush up and write in your dream journal."

**XXX**

**October 22, 1997**

"So, Hermione," Theo began as he slouched down low in his chair and crossed his arms behind his head. There was thick, open text in front of him, and a chipped, floral teapot that had a steady puff of steam flowing forth from the spout. "What do you know about Tessomancy?"

Hermione rolled her eyes so forcefully that Theo wondered if they had receded back into her head.

"Careful, Hermione. We don't want you straining something with all that enthusiasm."

She shot him a withering glare and said, "Tessomancy is the…" She made a face, as though she was eating something unpleasant, "_art_ of reading tea leaves, correct?"

He nodded. "And?"

She sighed and tilted her head back to stare at the well-lit ceiling; the coloured tea-lights had been abandoned in favour of a dozen tall, white pillar candles that cast far more light around the tiny room. "You drink your tea to the dregs, swivel the dregs just so, and then look for blobs in the dregs which correspond to the blobs in the book. Match the blobs to divine your future. Easy."

Theo slammed his text shut and fixed her with a glare. "It was your decision to take on this course, you know. I'd think you would take it as seriously as you would any other."

"But is this _really_ necessary, Theo?" she whined. "I mean,_ tea leaves_!"

"It is if you want to pass your NEWT," he answered firmly as he leaned forward to decant the tea into two cups. "Besides, this is Divination as rudimentary as it comes, Hermione. If you recall, when you brassed Trelawney off in third year, the class was covering Tessomancy."

Hermione sighed. "But it's just so –"

"Yes, Hermione," Theo cut in dryly. "Woolly guesswork at best, hearsay, unfounded, complete bollocks, conjecture and all that rot. But, as I've told you countless times, you've committed to learning the subject matter to take the NEWT and shockingly enough, despite your many and varied protestations, you aren't half bad at it. So, if you'd like to continue" – he pushed a cup towards her, careful not to spill the contents – "I'd suggest you drink up. And try not to swallow the leaves too much, would you?"

She eyed the teacup as though it was about to explode. Theo huffed in annoyance. "It's Earl Grey, Hermione. Not arsenic."

She grimaced and raised the floral teacup to her lips. He watched her pale, delicate throat convulse with each swallow she took until she set the teacup down. "Done."

"Good. Now, hold the handle of the cup in your dominant hand and swirl the dregs."

"For how long?" she asked, bored.

"As long as you see fit." He nodded towards the cup. "Go on."

Hermione grasped the teacup with her right and, using her wrist, swirled it around. She looked up at him from under her wild mane and quirked a brow. "Well?"

"Tell me you see, Hermione."

Hermione tilted her head to one side, then the other before holding the cup up to her nose and squinting into it. "I think… I think it's the sun."

Theo took the cup from her and peered over the rim. "The sun represents great happiness in your future. A nice fortune, if you believe this sort of thing," he added with a wink.

"But… happiness in what context?"

"However it comes. Perhaps you'll have a puppy waiting for you when you go home at Christmas, or perhaps some lucky fellow is going to sweep you off your feet in the near future."

"I'm going to be swept off my feet, huh?" she repeated, a quiet sort of smile on her lips as she looked at him, and an almost knowing glint in her eyes.

_Oh, I would very, very much like to. _Theo lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug and shot her a smirk. "Maybe, I don't know. But does it really matter?"

She set down the cup, a frown marring her features. "I suppose not. But what does it mean?"

"Can't you just accept what's in front of you without questioning it?"

"I find it hard to believe that some tea dregs know anything about my future happiness!"

"But you _don't_ believe in it anyway! So, tell me again; why should it matter?"

She looked at him with an odd expression, her mouth open to reply but no sound coming out. After a minute of strained silence, Hermione stood from the desk, proceeded to carefully stow away her belongings in her bag, and left, leaving Theo reeling in confusion.

**XXX**

**October 29, 1997**

"And what sort of hell do you have lined up for me this afternoon, Nott?" she asked by way of greeting when she strode through the door the following week.

Theo sighed. "Back to last names are we?"

"While you continue to feed me this drivel, yes."

"Need I remind you again, Hermione?"

"I'm here of my own volition and I don't have to be here if I don't want to," she dutifully recited. She took her seat and smiled. "That does not mean I'm not allowed to believe that it's drivel, though."

"Whatever," Theo grumbled. "Hold out your dominant hand. Today we're doing Palmistry."

"Oh, Merlin. Palm readings?" she exclaimed, aghast, as she reluctantly extended her right hand. "They're worse than the others!"

Theo rolled his eyes. "You say that an awful lot, Hermione. Granted, Palmistry is a bit daggy, but it's a fun one." He took her hand, and was caught off-guard for a split moment by just how tiny her hand was in his. Small, with thin, ink-stained fingers and nails that were short and chipped. He turned her hand over so her palm faced upwards, and stroked his forefinger over the lines that crossed and intersected. A short, quiet little giggle caught his attention, and he looked up in amusement.

"What?" Hermione defended, a tiny smile lifting the corner of her lips, her cheeks flushed pink. "It tickles."

Theo smiled to himself as he lifted her hand up so she could watch what he was doing.

"This here," he whispered as he traced the topmost line that ran over her palm. "This is your heart line. The heart line is used to make predictions or observations on one's love life. Yours is long, and see? It curves at the top." He drew over the arch of the line in demonstration. "That simply means you express your feelings and emotions freely.

"This one below it," he continued in the same, low tone, "is your head line. Basically, it has to do with your learning style." He smiled as he ran a finger over her head line, hearing her breathing hitch slightly. "Yours is deep and straight, indicating that your thinking is clear and focused."

Theo moved his thumb to trace the lowermost line. "This one is your life line. Contrary to stupid belief, this line is more about your health, well-being and cataclysmic life changes rather than how long you're likely to live. Yours begins close to your thumb, meaning that you're often tired." He looked up to find her sitting far closer than he expected, and shot her a smirk. Against all better judgement, Theo extended his free hand to run his thumb over the dark shadows under her eyes. "Truer words were never spoken."

Hermione stared at him for a long moment, her gaze dropping briefly to his lips then up again. Theo quickly cleared his throat and pulled his hand away to go over the next line.

"This last one, this one here that intersects all the lines and runs through the palm, is the fate line, which shows the extent to which someone's life is altered by circumstances beyond their control. Yours cuts down the middle and joins up at your life line, indicating a self-made individual who developed their own aspirations early on."

He set her hand back down on the table, his fingers lingering over hers as he pulled away, and fixed her with a triumphant grin. "Tell me again how Divination is little more than woolly guesswork? I don't think any part of that was inaccurate."

Hermione fixed him with a playful glare. "It wasn't bad."

"Wasn't bad?" Theo repeated, incredulous. "Hermione, my dear, I've never done such an accurate reading."

"Then perhaps you don't know me quite as well as you think you do." She smiled and held out her hand again. "Give me your hand, Theo. I want to try."

**XXX**

**November 4, 1997**

"Oh, good Merlin, Theo! What is all this?" Hermione demanded, aghast, as she approached their desk. It was shrouded in shadow and covered in dozens of plain tea-light candles that cast only just enough light to see.

"Today we're covering Cartomancy," he replied, as though it was obvious. "The art of reading Tarot Cards." He moved his arms in a wide arc over the desk, pushing the candles to either side, and slid across deck of cards. "Sit down. I'm going to do a reading on you before you start, so you know how it works. First off, you're going to shuffle these."

Hermione scowled as she sunk down her seat and took the cards in hand. She gingerly shuffled the deck for nearly a minute, then neatly pushed the cards back into place, setting them face-down on the desk.

"Good. Now, focus on something you'd like to know. It can be anything you like; whether you're going to pass your Herbology NEWT, or if someone is going to ask you to Hogsmeade this weekend. Anything."

Hermione closed her eyes, her lips twisted in a small frown. "Alright," she said. "What next?"

"Keep that question firmly in mind, Hermione, and cut the deck. Put the half that was on the bottom on top.

"We're going to keep this simple for the moment, Hermione," he went on. "A three-card spread. I want you to lay out three cards, face down, from left to right – past, present and future."

She opened her eyes again. "Any cards?"

"Any you like," he confirmed.

Hermione frowned as she extracted three cards from the deck and laid them flat in front of her.

"Start with whichever card you like, Hermione. Flip one."

Hesitantly, Hermione hovered a hand over the last card on the far right. "The future, correct?"

Theo nodded. "Correct."

She flipped the card over, revealing the image of The Chariot.

Theo grinned. "Accurate already."

She shot him a glare. "What does it mean?"

"The Chariot symbolises great success and reward beyond incredible struggle. In your case, it could represent completing – with honours, of course – your NEWTs in every subject. I certainly can't see you pulling through with anything less than O's across the board."

A tiny smile tilted her lips. Her hands passed over to the first card. "Alright. Past?"

"You know it is, Hermione."

The little smile turned into a dazzling grin, and she flipped the card over. "The Strength?" she questioned as it was revealed.

"Self-explanatory. To do with inner strength and mental endurance. You've done things the vast majority of us would never dare contemplate. Still are, in fact. You're one of, if not the strongest person I know."

Her eyes slid up to his, staring at him with something akin to awe. She said nothing, though, and held her hand above the centre card. "And present?"

Theo let out a laugh. "You are nowhere near as smart as everyone claims you to be, you know."

Hermione gave a little sniff, then turned the centre card over. She glanced up at him. "The Sun?"

"An opportunity for great happiness and contentment through a new relationship, whether it be friendship or romance, on the proviso that you work at it," he explained, a smirk on his lips.

She hummed and slid the cards back over to him. "Interesting."

"Really?" Theo drawled, his tone heavy with exaggerated surprise. "Hermione Granger, sceptic extraordinaire, finds something we have done in this room interesting?"

"Yes, really." She rolled her eyes at his incredulous expression. "Is it so hard to believe that I haven't truly hated anything we've done?"

"Well… yes."

She let out a warm laugh. "Granted, I don't enjoy Divination, and I more than likely never will, but… I enjoy you, Theo, and I like your company."

His jaw dropped, and all he could manage was a decidedly unintelligent, "Huh?

"I might not like Divination," she said, a smile on her face, "but I do admire and respect your passion for it, Theo. I want to see what you see in it, I really do."

"Then why the theatrics?" he asked.

"What's that phrase? 'Old habits die hard'? I didn't particularly want to do this in the beginning, Theo, but with you… I've started to enjoy it – look forward to it, even – and I think it might be because of you."

**XXX**

**November 11, 1997**

"Theo?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Why are you so interested in Divination?"

Theo looked up from his Ancient Runes essay, his lips tilting in a dry, little smirk. "I have a feeling I've answered this question before."

"I asked how you came to be the best in our year at it," Hermione pointed out primly as she set down her quill and pushed her own Divination essay away. "Not why you're so interested in it."

"Like I told you before; it's interesting. You ought to know that it's easier to excel at something when you have an interest in it."

She leaned forward and rested her chin on her propped up hand. "Do you honestly believe in it? Even you have to admit, elements of Divination are somewhat far-fetched."

Theo hesitated. "I believe some methods for divining the future are more accurate than others. Regardless of its place in the curriculum, I've always thought Ovomancy was a load of tripe."

"Really?" she questioned in a drawl. "And why is that? You seem to have faith in everything you've shown me so far."

Theo shrugged and gave a small smile. "There's no particular bird, no particular egg. No pattern or rhyme or reason. You just crack the egg and watch the yolk. That was one I never quite understood. And you're lucky I've never shown you flame reading. Bollocks, that one. And painful, too.

"But," he went on, "I don't doubt that there are people out there with abilities beyond what you or I possess. For all you claim to hate her, Trelawney has made a few accurate predictions in her day, and she does know the subject extremely matter well."

"My, my, you're evasive," Hermione said, smiling. "Will I ever get a straight answer?"

"You'll have to forgive me, Hermione. I'm quite unaccustomed to people paying an interest in me."

She paused, her head quirked thoughtfully. "Really?" she asked.

"Really," he confirmed. "Shocking, I know, but my cup doesn't exactly runneth over with friends."

"Nor does mine." At Theo's disbelieving expression, she rolled her eyes. "Do you often see me with anyone other than Harry and Ron?"

"Well, there is that Weasley girl on occasion."

"Be serious, Theo," she chastised.

"Fine. But why on earth do you want to know so badly?"

"I'm not sure. I have to say though, Theo, I'm very curious as to what makes you tick."

She was looking at him with a most curious expression, one similar to what he would sometimes see fixed upon him by some of the fanciful fourth and fifth year Slytherin girls. He'd heard whispers branding him as 'brooding', 'dark' and 'dreamy', and even, on one occasion, 'knickers-ruining handsome'. They would look at him with veiled eyes and flirty smiles – one girl had even batted her eyelashes at him! But there was something vastly different in the way Hermione was looking at him: there was the obvious attraction that couldn't be disguised (and that he knew he returned in spades), her eyes were bright, her smile and curiosity genuine, her face open and honest. Everything about her was utterly, unapologetically real, and that made her a thousand, a _million_ times more appealing than any of the silly girls that sat and made eyes at him in the common room.

"Tell me," she encouraged gently.

Still though, he hesitated. "My mother… she was a Seer, as was my grandmother before her death and her mother before her and so on, for as far back as we can trace. I guess you could say this sort of thing runs in my family."

"Are you one, too?" Hermione asked in a whisper.

"No," he replied, his smile sad. "I think the Seer abilities were limited to females. And since I'm an only child, and a male to boot, my mothers' Seer line is gone."

"But you still feel like you should carry it on," Hermione concluded, understanding dawning.

"I want to, Hermione," he assured her. "I didn't pick up Divination out of some sense of obligation or to fulfill my mothers' dying wish. I didn't know my mother terribly well, she died when I was young and my drunk bastard of a father rarely deigns to talk about her. Doing this, for me, it keeps her memory alive. It gives me an idea of the sort of woman she was."

He let out a breath and smiled at her, feeling substantially lighter. "So, now that I've divulged to you my biggest secret, tell me: what made you want to take on every NEWT subject?"

She hesitated. "You're going to think me awfully silly."

Theo leaned forward, crossing his arms on the desk. "Try me."

She let out a sigh. "I'm not entirely sure anymore. Validation, perhaps? If I successfully took on every subject and passed, no one could claim that a Mudblood such as myself doesn't belong here, can they?"

"People still call you that?" Theo questioned lowly.

"People will never stop calling me that," Hermione whispered, her eyes glazing. "It might seem as though I'm being petty, but I need to prove myself, Theo. I know I'll never change minds if the opinion is too ingrained, but I need to prove to them and to myself that I belong here, and if taking over a dozen subjects is what I need to do, then so be it. The only reason I'm not Head Girl is because McGonagall wouldn't allow it once I told her of my intentions."

"You're the smartest witch of our age without doing this, Hermione," Theo assured her. "If anyone still has a problem with you, then it's their issue. You don't need to kill yourself doing this."

"But it's as much about me as it is about them, Theo!" she exclaimed passionately. "Do you know how long I've spent wondering if I might not be better off without all of this? It's just as much about proving to myself that I belong here."

"Of course you belong here, Hermione! The proof of that fact is in your very blood! Hell, you're probably more entitled than me to be here; some string of fate chose you to be a witch, while I was simply born into the right family. My being here is luck; yours is clearly your calling."

Hermione stared at him in silent wonderment for a long moment. Eventually, she stood and, looking more determined than he had ever seen her, leaned across the desk and pressed her lips to his in a soft, chaste kiss. He let out and groan as she moved to pull away, and cupped her cheeks to hold her closer as he parted his lips just slightly to cradle her lower lip between his. A sneaky swipe of his tongue and she opened beneath him, hesitantly reaching her tongue to meet his in slow, languorous swipes that seemed to be made of fire. After so bloody long of wanting, he was hardly going to argue.

She pulled away for a deep gasp of air and looked at him with eyes dark with arousal and awareness. Her hands were still tangled in his hair (he had no idea when that had happened), and she was kneeling on the table in front of him (he had no idea when that had happened, either), her breathing was heavy and laboured, much like his.

He gently pulled her forward, so her forehead was resting against his, and said, "I've wanted to do that since I was fourteen."

He felt her smile. "You certainly took your time. And here I thought you were the take-charge type."

Theo chuckled. "You have absolutely no idea, do you?"

She pressed her lips to his again for the briefest of seconds before pulling back. "About what?"

"You're kind of intimidating, Hermione. Not that you mean to be," he added quickly when she shot him a glare. "Think about it: you're smart, kind, generous, beautiful… stubborn to a bloody fault – it's enough to make any man second guess himself."

"Still?" she asked in a shy tone.

He smirked. "I think I could be convinced."

She laughed, and he decided then and there that it was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. "Let's see where this goes, Theo."

He showed her just how much he agreed with that statement by kissing her again, losing himself in the softness and the warmth of her lips. He wondered how she might react if she knew that he'd known exactly how their tutoring sessions would turn out, and had done for some time now.

He had seen them kissing in the crystal ball two months ago.

But she didn't need to know that.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>This might be the last piece I post for the year (unless reveals on my two Christmas pieces come out earlier than I think they will...) so if that is the case, I'd like to wish all my readers a very Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays and a wonderful New Year, and I'll be back next year with more Harry Potter stuff, and some other stuff that will take me back to my fan fic roots!

Leave a review, please! I loved working on this piece, and I hope you enjoyed it, too.


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